POINTING AT VIEWS: Another Flea Means More Ointment
(NOTE:
Drill your holes and stand in line/‘till the shift boss comes to tell you/You
must drill her out on top/Can’t you feel the rock dust in your lungs?/It’ll cut
down a miner when he is still young/Two years and the silicosis takes hold/And
I feel like I’m dying from mining for gold)
Any perspective besides your own is suspect.
What seems rational to one person can infuriate or confuse another, like when
the Nobel Peace Prize committee sticks a bare-chested, former KGB agent on its
short list of contenders just days before he decides to pull a Czechoslovakia
on the Ukraine. From the perspective of those above the age of three with a
vague knowledge of international politics, their choice is stupid. From the
committee’s perspective, he appears to be a likely candidate. Who is right
depends on whether invasion is seen as a hindrance or a sparkling addition to
the resume.
Call it what you will—point of view,
perspective, voice—every story is told by a central narrator, identified by how
he or she sees the characters move through events and conflicts. The narrator
is there to help the reader navigate the rocks and rills of a story to its end.
Without the narrator, the story blunders lost through the fog to the cliff’s
edge and jumps.
FIRST IN LINE
First person tells a story through the use of
the personal pronoun, “I.” The reader assumes the role of the narrator, taking
possession of the story. They are invited to feel and react as the storyteller.
Though nothing beats the immediacy of the first person, it also has drawbacks.
The narrator only knows what is in front of him or her, and nothing about the
underlying motivations of the other characters. “I” can also be annoying when
overused. Too many personal pronouns come off as self-conscious when confidence
is necessary to move the story along. Writing in first person is harder than it
appears, but this point of view is used in genre fiction (especially detective
and thrillers) and some of the best in literary fiction, like Oracle Night by Paul Auster (Henry Holt, 2003).
SECOND FOR A MOMENT
Second person only works in short doses, and
if you think the novel you are working on should be in the second person, best
of luck. The second person knows nothing except action and reaction. Readers
are left out. You sit in a chair and open a book. In the first paragraph on the
first page, the reader is addressed as “you,” like you are expected to mimic
the actions to come. You really don’t want to on account of the main character
being nothing like you and you are not responsible for his or her problems. You
see where this is going? Jay McInerney used the second person in his Bright Lights, Big City (Random House, 1984), and you know
how well his career has gone since then, Bolivian Marching Powder or not. You
have reached the end of this paragraph with the hope the next one will be
better.
THIRD PLUS
The third-person omniscient narrator knows all, sees all, has
access to the hidden parts of a character, and can flip between characters
without confusion or apology. This narrator knows everything in the context of
the story, and the reader is free to pick the character they most identify
with. Still, the third person keeps a distance from the reader, never taking a
stand on the ensuing conflicts. This is where “free indirect discourse,” also
known as style indirect libre, comes into
play. The narrator is allowed the occasional entrance to the story in a
synthesis of first and third person. One of the best examples of free indirect
discourse is Stendahl’s The Red and the
Black. Yes, it’s an old nineteenth century novel and he used discourse to
get out of a couple of censorship problems, but there are many lessons to be
learned in its pages about how to break down the division between reader and
story.
Whatever point of view a writer decides to
use, make sure it is appropriate to the story. John Irving was ready to hand in
his manuscript for Until
I Find You (Random House, 2005) to his publisher when one last reading showed the first-person
voice as wrong, and he had only weeks to rewrite the novel in the third person.
Be warned.
TRUCKLOADS OF FUN
Big eighteen-wheelers are double-parked on
your favorite streets and thoroughfares, packed to the ceiling with The Dog Walked Down the
Street: An Outspoken Guide for Writers Who Want to Publish (Cypress House, $13.95). The only book you will ever need about writing
and publishing is such a resounding success that only heavy freight can keep up
with the demand. Meet famous tri-state truckers outside your local independent
bookstore by logging on www.indiebound.com for the nearest one. Clerks wearing
back support belts in spring colors will sell you a copy fresh out of the box. Weary
travelers nap separately.
NEXT: Tangled in a Leash
Labels: Guy Chambers/Brett James, Jay McInerney, John Irving, Paul Auster, point of view, Stendahl
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